When morning came, Luka's day began like every other day, mundane and predictable. The warden unlocked his cell, and Luka shuffled out, heading east toward the canteen on the first floor. The canteen was as uninspiring as the rest of the prison. A large, hall-like room with bolted-down tables and chairs designed to prevent any misuse. Luka joined the line for breakfast, his turn eventually coming to grab his rations of cereal, a Danish, and a small carton of milk.
As he scanned the room for a seat, a familiar voice called out. "Hey, Luka! Over here!"
Joe, a middle-aged, bald, and muscular man with a presence that seemed to fill the room, waved him over. Luka obliged, sliding into the seat beside him.
"You look rough today, kid," Joe remarked, his tone somewhere between concern and teasing.
Luka exhaled deeply, biting into his milk carton to open it. "I don't know, man. There's just... a lot on my mind."
Joe nodded, chewing his food thoughtfully before replying. "About the case?"
Luka rubbed his forehead, a weary gesture that betrayed the thoughts he tried to keep buried. "I don't know, Joe. I've got a bad feeling."
Joe shook his head, his voice rising in protest. "Don't give up just yet, young man! We all believe you're innocent, and that CCTV footage doesn't even look like you. The judges will see that, too."
From nearby tables, murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. A few prisoners called out, "You've got this, Luka!" and "We're rooting for you!"
The sudden burst of support drew the attention of a warden, who barked, "Settle down and eat your breakfast!"
The noise quieted, and Luka turned back to his meal. The weight of their encouragement was both uplifting and daunting.
Joe broke the silence. "I've got an idea to lighten the mood," he said with a grin that could only mean trouble.
Luka raised an eyebrow. "What now, Joe?"
Joe leaned in, excitement sparkling in his eyes. "You've got all those letters piled up on your bed, right? How about we read them out loud? It'll be like you're hearing the girls talk to you in person!"
Luka choked on his cereal, shaking his head firmly. "No way, Joe. That's private."
Joe wasn't deterred. "Come on, man! It's just for fun. We're not making fun of them; we just want to cheer you up."
Others around the room caught wind of the idea and chimed in with encouragement.
"Look at you," George, Luka's friend the cell only in front of his cell, teased. "You look like you haven't slept in days. You're gonna scare the jurors with that face. Let us help!"
Luka sighed, his resistance melting under the collective insistence. "Fine. Just this once. Just today."
After breakfast and their daily chores, the inmates gathered in the yard for their hour of outdoor activity. Luka returned to his cell, grabbing the pile of letters from under his mattress before joining the group.
Joe wasted no time snatching the top envelope, opening it with a flourish. "Here we go!" he announced, clearing his throat dramatically.
He began to read, his voice mimicking a soft, heartfelt tone:
Dear Luka,
I hope you're doing okay. I just wanted to write and let you know that I've been thinking about you. You've been through a lot, and I really admire how strong you've stayed.
Honestly, I like you a lot. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head. I want you to know that I'm here for you and that you're not alone.
Joe paused, smirking at Luka, whose face was now a deep shade of crimson. The group erupted in laughter and playful nudges.
If you feel like it, I'd love to hear more about you—what you're thinking about, how you're doing, or anything you want to share.
Joe grinned as he finished: Love, Renee Mason.
The name was echoed by a chorus of inmates, each exaggerating the syllables as they teased Luka.
George grabbed the next envelope, this one pink with a heart drawn on the front. "Oh, this has got to be good," he declared, pulling out the letter.
Hey Luka,
I've been thinking about you so much lately, and I just had to write this letter to let you know how I feel. I know life is tough right now, but I want you to know you're not alone—I'm here, and I care about you more than I can say.
Luka, you've got this way of staying in my mind, like you've made a little home there. I can't help but smile when I think about you.
You mean so much to me, and I hope you know that even in the hardest moments, someone out here is rooting for you and holding you close in my heart.
I hope this letter brings a little light to your day. Just know I'm thinking of you, missing you, and hoping to hear from you soon.
Take care of yourself, Luka. You've got someone who believes in you, always.
Love,
Kimberly Clement.
"Miss Clement, you are one," Paul added.
As George finished the read, the group oohed and ahhed in unison, their antics pushing Luka further into embarrassment. But even through the teasing, Luka couldn't help but smile.
When it was Hugo's turn, he chose a blue envelope and began reading:
Hello Luka,
I hope this letter finds you well. It's me again, Sophie. I wanted to make sure you received the books I sent you. The system says they've been delivered, but I haven't heard from you, so I'm not sure if they made it to you.
Luka's attention sharpened. His blush faded as he listened intently to Hugo's voice.
How are you doing? Hoping you're staying strong and healthy. Please take care of yourself. You're important to a lot of people.
No matter what, I'll be sending more books soon, whether you got the last ones or not. I just want to make sure you've got something to keep you company.
Take care of yourself, Luka. I'm looking forward to hearing from you if you can write back.
Best,
Sophie Auclair.
By the time Hugo finished, Luka was lost in thought, reaching for the letter that Hugo held and carefully rereading the letter as if he were trying to find any other words that might slip away.
"Do you know her?" Joe asked his tone light but curious.
"No, she sent me lots of books. She is from France," Luka replied, his voice softer than usual.
The group erupted into playful teasing again, but Luka didn't mind this time. He was too focused on the neat handwriting on the blue envelopes he now held.
"Oh, look at this, this one is blue!" Patrick exclaimed, holding up an envelope with a playful grin as he rifled through the pile. "This one's blue too!" He wiggled another envelope in the air for emphasis.
Luka couldn't hide his smile as he stood up, a spark of curiosity lighting his eyes. "Alright, alright, hand them over," he said, reaching for the letters.
Patrick raised an eyebrow, holding the pile just out of reach. "You sure? These might be very special," he teased, earning a wave of laughter from the group.
Luka shook his head, laughing despite himself, and gently snatched the envelopes from Patrick's hands. "That's enough, guys. I'm heading back to my cell."
The circle where they all sat gathered filled with mock protests and whistles, but Luka just smiled, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he turned toward the door. His steps were quick, his heart beating just a little faster, the blue envelopes clutched tightly in his hand like they held a secret waiting just for him.
"Gonna write her back, lover boy?" George called out.
Luka paused, looking over his shoulder with a small, private smile. "Maybe."
As the hour came to an end, Luka stood, but the teasing shouts followed him as he walked back to his cell. There, under the dim light, Luka sorted through the blue envelopes, placing them neatly on top of the pile. For the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of something close to hope.